


Stalked

by LMR



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody movie, Freddie Mercury - Fandom
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-07 14:33:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16410266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMR/pseuds/LMR
Summary: Jim and Freddie's relationship becomes strained when Paul begins to fixate on Jim.





	1. Watched

Jim didn't like the way Freddie's friend, Paul, stared at him. Jim would feel Paul's eyes on the back of his neck whenever he was around. Initially Jim dismissed it as paranoia, Paul would watch Freddie like a hawk, the blond didn't like to let the singer out of his sight for too long. But after months of dating Freddie, Jim came to realise that Paul would stare intently at both of them.

Jim also was accutely aware that Paul didn't like him. In fact Paul hated him. Freddie chose to ignore this, whenever Jim broached the subject of Paul, Freddie would brush him off with a, "Of course he doesn't hate you dear, he's just being Paul." 

Even if Freddie refused to see what was obvious, Paul made no effort to be discrete. Paul would often sneer or glare at Jim, he also tried to leave Jim out whenever he made plans to go out partying with Freddie. Freddie however wouldn't allow this, he was always adamant that Jim would go with him. Truthfully Jim didn't want to go out as much as Freddie did, despite Freddie being a few years older than Jim, Jim felt and acted decades older. Jim tried to explain to Freddie that, yes he enjoyed going out with him, but he liked to be asleep before 3am, which Freddie's all nighters didn't allow.

Jim was also fine with Paul disliking him, because Jim hated Paul. He found him to be an arrogant, unpleasant and decietful man. Paul was also a sex pest in public, Jim felt embarrassed being in a night club with him sometimes.

Whereas Freddie would kiss Jim and whisper dirty things into his ear in public, he would never try to initiate anything more when they were out. Jim didn't know if Freddie avoided trying to go further in the more seedier nightclubs because he knew Jim wouldn't like it; or if he was concerned he would be caught by the press in a compromising position; or because Freddie was too shy to want to himself. Either way Jim was happy with the discretion and had no urge to perform any sexual act in the corner of nightclub or in the toilets.

Paul would however act more lewd in some of the nightclubs, he would find a partner and they would rub against each other like they were trying to put a fire out, and they would do other things that would make Jim flush and look quickly away. Freddie would laugh at Jim's reaction but mostly ignored Paul's antics. Jim however felt increasingly uncomfortable around the blond. 

 

There were seven of them out tonight, in one of Paul's favourite clubs; who was currently getting off with an asian man on the dance floor. Jim hated the place, it was too dark, too grungy and he felt the only safe place to look was into his pint glass. Thankfully he was bladdered, so it took the edge off the shady night club. Freddie likewise was pissed, but although Freddie having drank more and being shorter than Jim, he was not as drunk as his boyfriend was. Freddie laughed when Jim regarded this with suspision.

"I just have a higher tolerance for it than you darling." Freddie said.

They were sat next to each other in a booth, with Freddie's arm draped over his shoulders. "I'm done." Jim muttered pushing his glass away.

Freddie nodded in agreement, "Quite right dear, I have plans tonight that don't involve you vomiting."

Then he picked up his vodka tonic and took a swig. Jim stared at him.

"I'm just catching up to you." Freddie said.

Much later that night, or rather in the early hours of the next morning, after a group of them had ended up back at Freddie's house, the night had finally come to an end. A few of Freddie's friends were still drinking on, but Jim and Freddie had managed to slip away. 

After a bit of coaxing Freddie managed to convince Jim to climb on his lap. They sat tangled up in sheets in the middle of Freddie's bed, with Jim straddling him and rocking against each other with an urgency that came with not having had sex in two days. Jim took a bit of persuasion to try this position with Freddie, but now in the heat of it made more noise than he usually would during sex when he was sober. Freddie likewise was equally loud, although he was just a vocal sober as he was drunk, he had as promised caught up with Jim's level of intoxication, although it had taken him another two or three drinks to get there.

Both of them being so distracted in the moment, failed to notice the bedroom door being opened. Freddie noticed before Jim did, he stopped jerking his hips up to meet his boyfriend and froze. Jim realizing someone was watching stopped moving and turned his head to see who was there. He felt his stomach twist when he realised it was Paul. 

"Paul get the fuck out." Freddie snapped, after a moment of the three of them watching each other with uncertainty. 

Paul backed out of the room stammering out an apology, before closing the door. Jim let out a breath he had been holding and was grateful that the bedsheets covered him and Freddie from the waist down. Although he was mortified by the fact that it was clearly obvious as to what they had been doing.

Freddie stroked his cheek, making Jim turn his head back to face him. He pressed his mouth to Jim's and started to gently move again, making Jim gasp.

"Sorry about that darling, now where were we?" Freddie whispered.


	2. Followed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul's attentions towards Jim turn sinister, while Freddie remains oblivious.
> 
>  
> 
> I do not own Bohemian Rhapsody

A week after Paul walked in on Jim and Freddie, Jim was still wary about the incident. He insisted that Freddie and him only have sex with the cabinet pushed in front of the bedroom door, which also meant they were confined to having sex in the actual bedroom. Much to Freddie's dismay.

"I'm sure it's safe to have sex in the living room." Freddie mused.

Jim frowned at him and then continued watching the tv. Freddie trailed a finger up Jim's leg, Jim ignored him.

Freddie went on, "Paul's not even here. Not that he intended to walk in on us."

Jim turned to look at him, "I just don't see how he didn't hear us. And why was he even going into your bedroom anyway?"

Freddie shrugged unconcerned. "You're just being paranoid."

Jim replied by grabbing the remote and turning the volume up.

Later in the week, when Jim went for a drink after work with his friend Leslie, he blurted out his puzzlement over the Paul situation to her.

"I mean Freddie's not quiet, no matter how drunk you may be its not a mistakable sound." Jim said.

Leslie nodded, swirling her drink around in its glass. "It's weird. I'll admit, how far along were you two? Sex wise?" She asked.

Jim whispered, "Well we'd not been at it long, but Fred was in me."

Jim hadn't of course told anyone he knew, what Freddie's last name was or what he did for a living. As far as Leslie knew, Freddie worked as an accountant. This being the first occupation that popped into his head when she had asked.

"Well that is embarrassing. I once walked in my boyfriend wanking. I had to throw those socks out after, never could get past that scene." She replied.

Jim thought that through for a moment. "What was he doing with the....you know never mind. The point is, I think Paul's jealous, he wants Freddie all to himself and he wants to get between us."

Leslie nodded, "Maybe, my advice would be don't rise to it. If Paul's trying to get between you and Freddie, don't play into his hands. Kill him with kindness." 

Jim nodded, "I guess you have a point."

"Of course I do. Now about the socks...." 

And then Leslie told him one of the longest and most disgusting stories he had ever heard, in great detail.

 

Jim made it back to his place at eight, Leslie and him were back at work tomorrow so neither of them wanted to stay at the pub late. Jim puttered around his house for about an hour, wearing the his version of pajamas that consisted of his boxers and a hoodie. He was just about to call Freddie for their nightly chat when he heard the doorbell. He opened it to find Paul.

"Hello Jim." Said Paul smiling.

Jim suddenly wished he had been wearing anything but his 'pajamas'. "Freddie isn't here." Jim blurted out.

"I know, do you mind if I come in?" Paul asked.

Jim hesitated and then remembering Leslie's advice invited Paul inside and even ignored the blond's critical looks around his house. They ended up sitting on the couch in Jim's small living room. 

"I thought we might have a chat." Paul started and then before Jim could respond he went on, "I know things have been a little tense between us after I walked in on Freddie fucking you."

Jim flushed in embarrasment and anger. He then became accutely aware that he was wearing boxers, Paul's eyes flicked over his legs.

"But there's really no need to be embarrased. We're all adults. I hope we can put it behind us, for Freddie's sake." Paul reasoned.

Jim held back his distaste for the man and replied, "Sure. Let's just forget about it."

Paul smiled, "Excellent. Now that we've settled that, let's move on to this saturday. We're all going out, I hope you can join us."

Although Jim did not want to spend another night out with Paul, he decided to agree since the man was obviously trying to make an effort to get along. After Paul told him the details for where to meet and when, he left without further ado.

As agreed Jim went to the nightclub with Freddie that saturday night. Freddie had been relieved that Jim had dropped the Paul matter and moved on. Their sex life returned to normal and Jim was sure that Freddie had another new position he'd want to try out later. 

A few hours in and four nightclubs later, Jim was tipsy and rapidly heading towards being drunk, along with Freddie. Jim leaned over the bar stool to whisper into Freddie's ear.

"Be back in a minute." 

Freddie nodded before accepting a shot from one of his friends.

Jim headed into the toilet, ignoring whatever the two men in the single toilet cubicle were doing, he pissed and was washing his hands, when he felt a hand on his elbow. Jim flicked his eyes to meet Pauls. 

Paul smiled at him. "Are you having a good night?' He asked.

Jim shrugged. "Its been fine."

Paul nodded, "How about I make it better?"

Before Jim could reply Paul darted his lips towards Jims. Jim jerked back before the man could kiss him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jim snapped.

Paul tightened his grip on Jim's arm. "I don't know what you mean." Pauls eyes had hardened and he regarded Jim coolly. 

"Get off me. I'm sure Freddie wouldn't take kindly to you trying to kiss me."

Paul took his hands off Jim and held them up innocently. "I don't know what you mean Jim. You're clearly drunk."

Paul backed away before leaving the toilets. Jim rubbed his face and took a moment before leaving. He made his way back over to Freddie, who hadn't moved from his spot next to the bar. Freddie smiled at Jim before offering him a drink. Jim took a swig gratefully, he glanced up to meet Paul's eyes, the man smiled at Jim before raising his own glass in salute.


	3. Believed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's night goes from bad to worse.

Jim didn't know how to broach the Paul subject with Freddie. He one of was Freddie's closest friends and he hadn't listened to Jim's concerns that Paul had walked in on them purposefully. Jim also considered the possibilty that Paul wanted Jim to tell Freddie about Paul's advances. He had seen Paul twist peoples words before and saw how Freddie believed anything the man said. For all Jim new Paul could tell Freddie that it was Jim who had tried to kiss him. 

All of this and Jims reluctance to talk about the matter, led him to keep drinking with Freddie well into the night without saying one word about it. Freddie was too drunk to notice the tension between Jim and Paul, the blond kept close to the couple for the rest of the night and didn't leave them alone for one moment. When Freddie announced that the night was to continue at his place, Paul went in the same car as them and plied Freddie with champagne.

 

"Cheer up Jim. Here have a glass." Paul said handing Jim a champagne flute. Jim accepted it reluctantly. 

There were five of them hovering around Freddie at his piano. While he drunkenly played. Freddie did not play well pissed, he sounded how Jim would imagine he would sound if he tried to play the instrument sober. But the others all cooed around the singer, as if he wasn't dragging his fingers across the keys like a moron. Jim would have been amused, if he wasn't so irritated with Paul.

To get past this Jim matched Freddie, drink for drink and when Freddie's friend offered him some pill that Jim didn't recognise, he downed it with his champagne. By midnight Jim was feeling terrible and Freddie was dancing with a female model, having the time of his life. Jim decided to call it a night. He felt dizzy and tired, he wished to god he hadn't taken that pill.

He staggered up the stairs and into Freddie's bedroom.  
Tripping over the rug, he landed in a heap on the floor. Jim lay there, considering how annoyed Freddie would be if he threw up all over his floor.

"Jim? What the fuck?" Freddie's voice rang out.

Then Jim felt himself being rolled over onto his back and Freddie's concerned face was hovering over him. 

Freddie went on, "Tom told me he'd see you practically crawl up the stairs, but I didn't believe him when he said what a state you were in."

Jim groaned and jolted up. "I'm going to be sick."

Freddie leaned back, "Seriously?"

Jim nodded frantically. Freddie lept up and moved away, before returning quickly and pushing a bin into his hands. Jim promptly vomited into it and groaned when Freddie turned a light on. After Jim had finished, Freddie knelt next to him and grabbed his chin.

"Your pupils are the size of golf balls. What the hell did you take?" Freddie questioned.

Jim shrugged and Freddie took the bin off him before pulling him to his feet. Freddie wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him onto the bed. Jim allowed Freddie to undress him down to his boxers and after he couldn't coax Jim into the bed, Freddie pulled the covers over him. With Jim lying vertically in the centre of the bed, Freddie tried again.

"What the fuck did you take?" Freddie asked.

Jim shrugged. Freddie went on, "Who gave it to you?"

Jim's face scrunced up as he tried to remember. "Your friend Danny, I think."

Freddie replied urgently "Do not leave this bed. I'll be back soon. There's another bin near your foot if you need to be sick again." 

Freddie turned the light off before leaving and shutting the door behind him. Jim fell asleep within seconds.

Jim was woken up by Freddie tugging on his bedsheets. Jim blinked his eyes open but the room was pitch black, he didn't think he had been asleep for very long. Freddie pulled the sheets away from him and he felt a weight settle on top of him. Jim grunted and tried to push at his shoulders but his own arms were easily pushed down. He felt lips on his jaw.

"Fred, I don't feel so good." Jim slurred.

He recieved no reply, but felt a hand slide into his boxers. Jim then became aware that it was not Freddie on top of him. 

"This will make you feel better." Paul murmered.

Jim started to struggle and protested when Paul tried to take his boxers off all together. Paul shushed him and leaned back so he could try pull Jim's boxers off. Jim jerked his leg and kicked Paul as hard as he could in the face. 

Paul swore and clutched his face. Jim heaved himself up in just enough time to vomit into the bin, when he finished he was relieved to notice that Paul had left the bedroom.

Jim was only alone for another five minutes before Freddie came bursting into the bedroom and turned the light on. Jim was sat up still clutching the bin to his chest, determined not to fall back asleep. Freddie took in the sight before closing the bedroom door and taking the bin out of Jims hands.

Freddie narrowed his eyes at Jims state of disarray. Jim's boxers had been pulled down to his thighs and the blankets were tangled in a heap next to him. Freddie helped him back into his underwear before speaking. 

"Who was in here?" Freddie asked, tugging the blanket around Jim.

Jim met his large worried eyes and said nothing. He was feeling more alert now.

Freddie stroked his hair. "Was it Paul?"

Jim blinked in shock. "Yes." He whispered.

Freddie sat next to him on the bed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I'm taking you to hospital."

Jim shook his head. "No." He was adamant.

"What did he do? Did he rape you?" Freddie asked worriedly. 

Jim shook his head again, "No. He tried, but I kicked him."

"That would explain the blood. I knew something was up when Danny told me Paul had asked him to give you one of those pills. I was just on my way back up here when I bumped into Paul, broken nose and all."

"What did he say?" Jim asked.

"He said you had beaten him up after he refused your advances. Stupid bastard must not have realised I had put you to bed and seen what a state you were in. Not that I would have believed him anyway."

Jim swallowed, his throat felt raw. 

Freddie noticed and said "I'll get you a drink darling."

"No!" Jim blurted, grabbing Freddie's hand. "Stay with me."

Freddie nodded. "Of course I will. Don't worry darling, you won't have to see Paul ever again, I had him kicked out after making doubly sure his nose was broken of course."

"You punched him?" Jim asked incredulous.

"You're damn right I did. Once I realised what a fucker he was being."

"I love you." Jim blurted.

Freddie smiled at him teeth and all. "I love you too. And tomorrow, when you're sober I want you to tell me every vile thing that man did."

Jim lay back on the bed with Freddie and within minutes they were both asleep.


End file.
